Repercussions
by Whitechapelfangirl
Summary: ITV Whitechapel - SLASH - C/K - The Uniforms of the Metropolitan police force don't like the idea of a homosexual couple in their station
1. Chapter 1

Title: Repercussions - Chapter 1

Pairing: Kent/Chandler

Rating: R

Author: Claddagh

Summary: The uniforms of the Metropolitan police force don't like the idea of a homosexual couple in their station.

Disclaimer: Not mine…or are they? No. Really. They're not!

Warnings: Violence, homophobia, angst…The list is endless…

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><p>It had all happened a few weeks after Joe and Emerson had become a couple.<p>

Over the course of the four years since the beginning of the Ripper case and throughout the Kray's incident, as well as all of the other less high publicity cases, Joe and Emerson's relationship has evolved from one of pure tolerance of the young man's presence and hero worship, to mutual friendship and respect, then further to a tentative attraction.

Both men had been reluctant to venture into the beginning of a relationship, worries of what others would think and the possible repercussions of those thoughts causing knots of anxiety to appear in their stomachs. However, after multiple hurried discussions in the dark, quiet corners of the station the two men had cautiously started their relationship, but had agreed to be discreet about it when at work, as despite the wide acceptance of homosexuality in today's society, the police force seemed to be mostly exempt in this belief, and still held prejudice and stereotypical views, especially as it seemed, the uniforms.

Ever since the Kray's, Chandler's whole team, Kent in particular was very wary of all of the uniforms and preferred to do all of the work for a case themselves, with minimal involvement of the uniforms. Most would think that this distrust was unfounded, as the police force had been purged of most, if not all corruption since the Kray's, but all of Chandler's team still chose to keep their distance, only trusting each other.

The teams' distrust of the uniforms was only exacerbated by the PC's reactions to the teams' distance. Whispers around the station that inevitably made their way back to the team and more overt displays such as name calling down the corridor; a schoolboy practice, but still very cutting and effective. More than once when Kent had been carrying files towards the incident room his rout had been followed by calls of 'fag' of 'poof'. When he'd been alone he'd just sighed and carried on, but once, when the uniforms had been brave (or stupid) enough to do this when Miles had been with him, had bared the brunt of Miles' colourful Londoner insults. Most of the uniforms were a slightly wary, if not scared of the small DS and whenever Kent was with Miles the incidents were thankfully few and far between.

Chandler had confined in Kent that he'd had similar experiences with the uniforms, though they were not quite as obvious with their taunts when it was Chandler, as if caught, the DI's higher rank and connections would put their jobs in a much more precarious position more quickly than the other detectives could.

Both Chandler and Kent were pretty sure that no one except Miles, Mansell and Dr Llewellyn knew of their relationship. Others in the force may suspect, but none had definite proof, so both men had continued to keep their relationship discreet when at work, not wanting to risk being the talk of the station, though it was difficult. Sometimes, when standing close to each other, all Chandler wanted to do was interlace his fingers with Kent's or when he was sitting in his office during one of the quiet afternoons when, instead of checking previous files like he usually would, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the young man bent over his desk reading, or standing at the filing cabinet tidying.

Six weeks into their relationship both men were working late into the evening, Miles and Mansell having gone home over an hour ago, the office coated in thick, winter darkness, except for each man's desk lamp and the corridor light outside, that barely permeated the darkness. They'd both thought that they were alone, so when Kent slipped into Joe's office, sat on the edge of the desk and lent down, pulling Joe into a playful kiss by his tie, the older man didn't resist and instead threaded his fingers through the young man's curls and stood from his chair, changing the angle of the embrace and puling the young man closer, kissing him back earnestly.

With each other as a pleasurable distraction neither man saw the two uniforms standing in the corridor, staring at their superiors, heartless sneers dominating their expressions.

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><p>It was a week later, on an evening very similar to the one seven days previously, that Kent once again came to sit on the edge of Chandler's desk and yawned tiredly.<p>

"Are you going to be finished any time soon?" the young man asked, leaning on one hand.

Chandler looked up from the mass of papers at the DC and gave a tiny smile, before reaching out a hand and gripping the young man's thigh, gently squeezing.

"I think I'll stay for another hour or so, this case is proving to be quite difficult." Chandler sighed and sat back in his chair, one hand rubbing over his tired eyes. "Go home Emerson, don't wait for me. I might come to your flat later once I'm finished here. Is that ok?"

Kent smiled. "Of course it's ok, do you still have the key I gave you?"

Chandler nodded.

"Ok, well, I'll see you later then." The young man then lent forward and gently kissed Joe on the lips, the contact only lasting a few seconds. As they pulled away Joe stroked one hand along the inside of Kent's thigh as he still sat on the table.

"Drive carefully." The older man muttered.

Kent laughed quietly as he stood from the desk and made his way to the door of Joe's office. "You really don't trust me on the Vespa do you?"

Joe shook his head as a laugh threatened to escape his lips.

"No, it's just I'd prefer if you had a car."

Kent gave a cheeky smile. "Well, now you know what to get me for Christmas, don't you?" and with that he walked out of Joe's office, leaving the DI staring after him through the glass with a soft, almost sappy expression on his face that would make Miles scoff and roll his eyes. He watched as Kent grabbed and pulled on his coat, collected his phone and keys, then shoved his helmet under his arm, before turning to him and offering one last smile, then walked out of the office, leaving Joe alone in the silence.

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><p>Kent pushed open the door to the station and stepped out into the harsh winter cold, the frozen air hitting the young man's face and stinging the flesh like a slap. He pulled his coat tighter around his already shivering frame and began to walk quickly to his Vespa, which was parked around the corner, right next to Chandler's car. As he walked around the corner, out of the circle of lights that surrounded the station entrance, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, the cold metal digging into his icy palms. The young man manoeuvred his way around Joe's car and came to stand next to his little Vespa, already not looking forward to sitting on the seat, which would undoubtedly be freezing.<p>

He was just about to put his helmet on when the voice reached his ears.

"DC Kent!"

He turned around to face the source of the sound, placing his helmet on the seat of the Vespa, and stared into the darkness. He could barely make out the form of a person standing about twenty feet away in the middle of the car park. He didn't recognise the voice, but assumed that it was someone who was also a part of the police force and therefore someone he could trust.

"Yes?" He called out, keeping his eyes fixed on the other man's form. The man began to walk towards him without replying, unnerving the young man slightly, who shifted from one foot to the other while gripping his keys even tighter.

Eventually the other man was close enough for Kent to see his face. The young man frowned slightly as he recognised one of the uniforms who frequently worked in the incident room with the team.

"PC Andrews. Is there something that you wanted?" He called out, his voice quite confident now that he knew who the other man was.

As the PC came to stand in front of Kent he smiled and placed his hands in his pockets. Though the smile was not a friendly one, and immediately Kent was on his guard again, the old fear of the uniforms creeping into his conscious thoughts.

"Yeah there is." He then looked from side to side into the darkness, and before Kent could turn his head to see what the other man was looking at he felt two hands on either shoulder gripping harshly, then suddenly he was pulled backwards and his back slammed against the hard brick wall, his head snapping backwards from the force, causing his skull to smash against the wall, making a dull thud at the impact.

His legs weakened and his vision swam as the pain in his head exploded and he let out a disorientated, painful moan. After a few seconds Kent was able to focus and immediately began to panic when he saw that Andrews was standing right in front of him, smiling in a wicked, almost psychopathic way. A glance to each side revealed that two other uniforms were standing next to him, glaring at the young DC.

Kent brought one hand up to the back of his head and blanched when the tips of his fingers came away covered in blood. He grimaced.

"W-what do you want?" the young man forced out, breathless and his heart pounding in his chest.

Andrews, flanked by the other two uniforms, moved even closer to Kent and lent down until they was eye to eye.

"We want all of you _fags out _of the police force." With that Andrews gripped Kent's throat with one hand and as quick as lightening punched the young man across the face. Kent clenched his eyes closed and let out a cry of pain. The two other PC's barely gave the younger man time to recover from the punch when they closed in and all three began to rain punches down on the DC. Kent was hardly able to make a sound during the attack as one particularly hard punch to the stomach winded him and made it impossible for him to catch his breath, enabling him only to let out grunts, coughs and wheezes with the impact of each punch. Instead he tried to curl up into a small ball to try and get away from the hard fists, but a hand on each shoulder held him up against the wall for the duration of the attack, making it impossible for him to escape or defend himself in any way, though for the first minute or so he did try to hit back through the pain, but every retaliation attempt was thwarted by the PC's who were all stronger than he was and out numbered him.

As the attack continued it seemed that the punches were getting harder, but it only appeared that way to Kent as the uniforms fists repeatedly smashed against the already bruising flesh, causing the pain to double.

After what seemed like an eternity the hands on his shoulders released him and with that Kent's knees finally buckled and he fell to the floor of the car park, the grit and small pieces of broken glass digging into his palms. The young man curled up as small as he could and let out pain filled moans in between harsh ragged breaths. He opened his eyes to look up at the three men, who were still standing above him, only to flinch backwards when Andrews lent down.

"If you fucking tell anyone _we _did this, you'll have more than a few bruises to worry about." With that Andrews drew back a foot and swiftly kicked Kent in the stomach, once again winding the young man, who gasped in agony as his side exploded in pain and began to sob against the dirty ground.

At this, all three man began to laugh, heartlessly, and Kent could make out comments of 'Faggot' and 'sick fucker', but he just stayed as still as possible and just concentrated on breathing. He heard a crash then more laughter, but he didn't have the strength to open his eyes to see what it was. Kent expected at any time for another hit to come, but was blessedly relieved when the three men's voices faded and he was left alone, among the dirt, broken glass and cigarette butts.

He didn't know how long he lay there, the movement of each breath alone reverberating pain through his whole body, while the movement of each heart wrenching sob that shook his chest caused bolts of agony to pulse through the young man, but he couldn't stop the sobs from coming, no matter how much they hurt.

Eventually when they did subside enough, the young man attempted to climb to his feet, which proved difficult, not only because of the pain he was in, but his hands and whole body was shaking from a mixture of fear and the icy coldness of the London winter.

When he eventually made it to his feet his vision of the whole car park swam in front of him and he had to grip the wall behind him to steady himself. After a few seconds this feeling passed and he was able to open his eyes and focus on his surroundings.

Thankfully the car park was empty, but the young man noticed with a helpless groan that his Vespa had been kicked over and was now on the floor on it's side. He slowly walked over to his 'baby' and bent down to pick it up, his arms feeling so weak and shaky that he was barely able to grip the handle of the scooter, let alone lift it. He also noted that one of the mirrors was smashed and the side that it had landed on now had several scratches and scuffs along it's length.

The young man silently wiped away a tear from his eye and bent down to pick up his helmet, once again placing it on the seat of the Vespa.

Kent suddenly turned around to look at Chandler's car, which had been parked next to his scooter. It was stupid and irrational, he should be more concerned about his own safety, but he slowly limped towards the vehicle and walked around it, examining it for any damage. He knew that Joe loved his car and after his other one was stolen during the Kray case he was fiercely protective of this one. With his first relieved sigh of the evening Kent smiled slightly, then winced when his split lip was pulled, as Joe's car seemed to be free of any damage that he could see in the limited light.

'Small mercies' the young man thought, before he walked back to his Vespa. He glanced upwards towards the windows above him that he knew to be the incident room, he could still see a dim light shining through the glass, telling him that Joe was still working away. Part of him wanted to go back into the station, up to the incident room, and just collapse in Joe's arms, but the rest of him was too stubborn and scared to do that and just wanted to go home and go to bed.

So with a small sniff and a whimper Kent rubbed his hands together to rid them of grit and shakily pulled his helmet on, wincing as the soft inside of the helmet pressed on his head injury. Slowly and painfully he then climbed onto the scooter and fumbled with the keys, turning the ignition on. With his head still swimming and his body aching Kent drove the Vespa out of the car park and through the streets of London to his home. How he got there safely without crashing he didn't know, but when he finally stood at the door to his flat he breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly, knowing that he was safe here.

Once inside he locked the door and quickly put the chain lock on before leaning back against the wood and again, allowing the tears to come.

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><p>Emerson stared into the mirror, observing his injuries. One eye was already black and beginning to swell, his nose was trickling blood down his bruised chin and his bottom lip was split. He then looked down at his torso (his suit abandoned on the floor of the bathroom) which was decorated with several bruises, some darker than others, but all extremely painful, especially when he moved. His skin looked like a child had been finger paining all over it with black, blue and green paint, while his palms and fingers were also cut from where he'd landed on the floor, a few of the grazes still had small pieces of grime and grit embedded in them.<p>

The most worrying though was the small cut on the back of his head, which had bled all down his neck and didn't seem to be stopping. Kent was weak and dizzy and couldn't be bothered to clean all of the injuries, but didn't want to go to bed covered in blood and grime, so he'd turned on his shower, the water turned up to almost as hot as it would go, before he stepped under the spray, gasping at the extreme temperature.

The hot water made his skin immediately come up red and when it hit the cuts on his body they stung and seared with renewed fervour. Kent placed both palms against the shower wall and lent on them ignoring the pain that the hot water caused and watched as the red tinted water disappeared down the plug. He then closed his eyes and once again began to sob, the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness all too familiar and vivid in his memory from less than a year ago when he'd been attacked during the Kray's case.

He stayed this way until the water ran cold, cooling his flushed skin and making him shiver again, before climbing out of the shower, drying and dressing in a pair of pyjama trousers and a warm jumper. He reached out a hand a wiped it across the steamed up surface of the mirror, wiping away the condensation and revealing his own beaten image staring back at him. He found that after the shower his appearance wasn't any better; the blood may have been washed away, but the swelling and bruising now looked even worse. He sighed and brought his fingers to his face, gently touching the hot, marked flesh, that ached and stung with his touch.

Though one good thing had come from the shower; his muscles seemed to have loosened and the pain in his body didn't seem as harsh and sharp when he moved. He continued to examine his reflection, one hand coming up to touch the cut on the back of his head, concealed amongst his dark curls, which seemed to have stopped bleeding finally.

Kent's whole body jumped in fright and shock when he heard a bang from the other room. With his breathing raised and his heart pounding in fear he opened the bathroom door and looked around. Another bang from the front door caused him to spin around on his heel and stare fearfully at the source of the sound.

"Emerson? Are you ok? Let me in." Came Joe's worried voice from the half open door. Joe had opened the door with his key, but the chain lock that Kent had put on has stopped the door from opening more than half a foot, which had caused the banging that had scared the young man. His breathing and heat rate calmed slightly, but was still elevated.

Kent had half a mind to tell the other man to go away, but he knew that Joe would never do that, so with his hands shaking and panic settling firmly in his stomach the young man walked towards the door to let Joe in, uncertain of how the next few moments would play out.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Repercussions - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kent/Chandler

Rating: R

Author: Claddagh

Summary: The uniforms of the Metropolitan police force don't like the idea of a homosexual couple in their station.

Disclaimer: Not mine…or are they? No. Really. They're not!

Warnings: Violence, homophobia, angst…The list is endless…

Author's note: I'm really sorry if any of the actual investigation is badly written or wrong; I don't know a great deal about policing and I only know what I learn from TV, (which we all know is dramatised and most likely very inaccurate itself) so do correct me if I'm completely wrong in bits. Also I am very sorry if It seems that I'm making Kent into a bit of a crying woman, but as it's canon in the show that he expresses his emotions through tears, I thought that if he'd been attacked (like he was in the show) he probably would sob his poor little heart out!

And jeeze, this chapter is over 5,000 words, it's the longest Whitechapel fic I've written, and it's not even a whole fic, only one chapter! Go me! ;-)

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><p>Joe ran both hands over his face as he tiredly sat back in his seat and sighed. He glanced at his watch that was sitting on his desk next to his police badge and other belongings.<p>

'9.25', he groaned, he'd sat here for much longer than he'd planned, Kent was probably wondering where he was. Chandler quickly began to organise and tidy away the file that was spread out across his desk, before putting on his watch and coat, then collecting the other items on his desk, placing them in his pocket. He swiftly walked out of his office, flicking the light switch off and placing the file back in its original place in the file cabinet, before doing up his long coat and walking out of the station into the car park.

His reaction to the harsh British winter weather was much the same as Kent's, a shiver and immediately pulling his coat tighter around his body. Chandler walked quickly to his car, unlocked the vehicle and climbed inside, rubbing his hands together to warm the numb skin.

The DI turned the engine on, the machine stuttering slightly in the cold, before he turned the dial on the dashboard that turned the car's headlights on and illuminated the wall of the police station that he was parked in front of.

Just as the detective was about to put the car in reverse he glanced out of the front windscreen, then frowned in confusion as he saw on the wall in front of the space next to his there was a dark stain, that in the bright full beam headlights appeared to have a red tinge. Chandler continued to stare at the small stain as he opened the car door and got out, leaving the engine and the lights on. He walked around the front of his car and came to stand in front of the wall.

Chandler leaned forward in order to get a closer look at the mark, he was sure it was blood, and it was fresh, not a huge amount, but enough to indicate that someone had been hurt badly. Half curious and half disgusted with himself Chandler reached out with one hand and pressed the tips of three fingers to the wall and then looked at the skin, which had come away wet with blood, that was obviously very fresh and shimmered in the harsh light of the headlights.

The Detective quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue, quickly wiping his fingers until they were free from the blood and looking over his shoulder into the darkness of the car park, looking in vain for the person who had left the ominous bloodstain on the wall of the police station.

It was then that he happened to glance down at the floor of the parking space next to his car, where he'd know that Kent had parked his Vespa that day and gasped quietly as he bent down and picked up a shard of mirror that was about half the size of his palm.

These two signs unnerved Chandler greatly as the only place the piece of mirror could have come from were the wing mirrors on Kent's Vespa, and the blood stain on the wall meant that it wasn't an accident. He quickly pulled out his mobile and pocketed the shard of mirror at the same time, quickly bringing up Kent's mobile number from his phonebook. As he climbed back into his car he let out an angered cry as after several rings the young man's voicemail cut in.

Chandler sighed and thrust his mobile back into his pocket before pulling on his seatbelt, reversing his car out of the parking space and driving as quickly as his morals would allow to Kent's flat.

Before he went into the building he walked over to Kent's Vespa, parked in it's allocated spot. He let out a worried groan when he saw that the wing mirror of the scooter was shattered, with a shard missing in the shape of the one that now sat in his pocket, while along one side there were scratches and scuffs on the bright yellow body.

His heart pounding, Chandler ran into Kent's building, forgoing the lift and instead running up the five flights of stairs to the door at the end of the corridor. Rather than knocking the DI pulled out his keys and found the small silver one that Kent had pressed into his hand one evening before he'd left the young man's home over a week ago.

Once the door was unlocked Chandler forcefully went to push it open, wanting nothing more than to see his DC and make sure that he was alright, but with a loud bang the door refused to open more than a few inches. Chandler sighed, then frowned at the fact that Kent had put the chain on the door, which was something that the young man had never done before, to Joe's knowledge.

"Emerson? Are you ok? Let me in." he called through the partially open door. "Please Emerson, open the door."

Joe couldn't help but sigh in relief when he felt Kent pushing the door from the other side until it was closed, then the scratch of the chain lock being taken off. Chandler waited for the young man to actually open the door again, but it never happened, so he did it himself, quickly letting himself into the flat and closing the door behind him again.

Kent was standing in the middle of the room with his back to the DI, his arms wrapped around himself. All of this was continuing to unnerve Joe further, never had Kent acted this way when he'd come to the young man's flat before, every other time he'd immediately walked over to Joe and kissed or embraced him warmly. This reception was something that Joe was not used to from the smaller man.

"Will you put the chain back on please?" came the whispered request, to which Joe's frown deepened, yet he still turned and re-locked the door, before sliding the chain lock on once again. With only a moments hesitation he walked over to where Kent was still standing, came up behind the young man and placed one hand on the slim waist, gently applying pressure that usually comforted the other man.

"Emerson, are you ok, at the station I found-"

"Ah!" at the light pressure from Joe's hand the young man let out a sharp cry of pain and immediately jerked his whole body away from the touch, startling the DI.

The silence stretched and Kent continued to face away from Joe, who just stared at the DC's back, confusion evident on his face. With even more hesitation Chandler reached out his hand once again and placed it on Kent's shoulder, gently forcing the young man to turn around.

"Emerson, what's going on?"

With a sniff Kent turned around to face Joe, who didn't even make a sound when he saw the young man's appearance and jut stared in horror at the cuts and bruises that littered the usually pale, flawless face.

Kent couldn't meet Joe's gaze and stared down at the floor instead, wrapping his arms even tighter around himself and hating the fact that his eyes were already dampening under the other man's scrutiny.

"Oh God…what happened?" Joe forced out, his eyes caressing the other man's entire frame. "Who did this?" He demanded, his other hand coming up to the side of the young man's head, threading through the damp curls, while his other man tightly gripped Kent's shoulder, keeping him still.

At this Kent could still imagine that the hand on his shoulder was not Joe's but those of the uniforms, holding him in place during the attack. With this thought he shrugged Joe's hand off of his shoulder and hair, slowly walked over to the sofa and gingerly sat down, his whole body aching.

Kent slowly lifted his head to look at Chandler and licked his lips, wincing as the cut on the bottom one stung. The older man stared at him helplessly unsure of whether to move any closer, for fear of the young man pulling away again, or to stay where he was, which would offer very little comfort.

"When I left the office. They were…waiting in the car park." he whispered, his gaze returning to his lap. "I think…they'd found out about us."

That's when the first wave of anger hit Chandler. They'd been waiting in the car park for Kent, so It wasn't random, they knew who they were going to attack and out of the two of them the younger, smaller one had been targeted. The uniforms were cowards! Joe had always thought that something bad would happen when someone at work found out about them, but he'd never imagined it would be this bad.

He clenched his fists and took a deep, calming breath. Getting angry in front of Kent wouldn't help anything, it may in fact make him more scared than he obviously already was.

"Who? Did you see their faces?" He was consciously trying to keep his voice even, not allowing any emotion to filter through into his tone.

Kent opened his mouth as if to reply then, hesitated and shut it again, before quickly shaking his head. "No, I don't know. It-It was too dark."

As the DI's shoulders slumped, he slowly paced back and forth along the length of the room, completely at a loss of what to say or do. If this were a normal case he'd be able to give out orders and instructions to the team easily, a plan of action formulating quickly and efficiently in his mind. But this wasn't another case at work, it was a horrible crime committed against someone he cared about. He looked at the young man, who was still sitting with his head lowered and his fingers being wrung in his lap. In that second Chandler made his decision.

"Ok, In the morning I'll get the uniforms to look through the CCTV of the car park, I'm sure one of the cameras will have caught something -"

"No!" Kent cried, looking up, his facial expression one of pure panic. At Joe's confused look he quickly relaxed his face and tried to stammer out a suitable explanation. "I don't want anyone to know, and… we both know how the uniforms talk."

Joe sighed. "Emerson, You were assaulted. We need to find those who did it, we can't keep it just to ourselves." The older man reasoned.

"Joe, please, I just don't want the u-uniforms involved. It'll only make it worse." Kent pleaded, unable to look the other man directly in the eye and instead continued to stare down at his own lap, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

There was silence for a few seconds, where Joe just stared at the smaller man, his mind putting the pieces together. Despite Chandler not being the best detective in practice, he wasn't stupid and could easily read the young man by now.

"You said that you don't know who did this?" He slowly asked, testing the waters to gauge Kent's reaction.

"No." Came the immediate answer, and still no eye contact was made between the two men. "I couldn't see." And yet Kent seemed to have known it was someone from work, as he'd made the assumption that it'd happened because someone had found about their relationship.

Pursing his lips, Joe moved from his standing position in the middle of the room to instead sit next to the young man and place one hand on his knee, forcing Kent to look at him.

"If you do know who did this, you have to tell me. I won't be able to do anything if you don't."

Kent's watery eyes looked to the ceiling for a moment as his conflicting urges battled for dominance inside of his mind. Half of him wanting to tell Joe everything, but the other half terrified after what Andrews had said to him about letting it slip who'd attacked him.

"I don't know anything!" He suddenly shouted, standing abruptly from the sofa, shoving Joe's hand to the side and walking a few paces away while folding his arms, his back now to the other detective. Joe stood once again and slowly walked up behind Kent.

"It was one of the uniforms wasn't it." It wasn't a question, and in response to the statement Kent brought one hand up to his mouth trying to hold in his panic. This reaction was confirmation enough for Chandler as the young man seemed to be immensely scared of the uniforms whenever they were mentioned. "Which one was it?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

After a few seconds Kent's whole body drooped in resignation and all of the will to argue with Chandler seeped from his pores, leaving behind a young, tired and beaten constable.

"PC Andrews, and two others. But I don't know their names." He whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

Joe nodded slowly and rubbed one hand over his face, before sighing. "Ok. I'm going to ring Miles." Joe stated, pulling out his mobile from his pocket. At this, Kent spun around and looked at Joe like he was crazy.

"What? No, Joe!" He cried, rushing forward and stilling the other man's hands on the phone with his own. "No, not tonight. We can do something tomorrow, but not tonight, please." He pleaded, looking up at the other man.

Joe was still very reluctant to leave the situation the way was, but seeing the young DC looking up at him with such a tired, beaten expression on his face finally convinced Joe to resignedly put his phone back in his pocket and nod his head.

"Ok."

Kent immediately looked relieved and gave a tiny smile, though with all of his injuries it looked more like a grimace. There were a few seconds of silence between the two men before Kent suddenly let out a quiet laugh, his eyes becoming watery at the same time. At Joe's questioning look the young man sniffed and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper.

"This wasn't exactly how I thought the evening would go when you came over." Kent laughed, the action slowly turning more sober and eventually dissolving into hitched breaths and the quiet sounds of tears being held in.

Joe looked around the room awkwardly, before half smiling and raising a hand, gently stroking his fingers down one side of the young man's face, feeling the warmth on the young man's skin that was much warmer than usual, the heat coming from the swelling and bruising of the skin. In the end his hand cupped the chiselled jaw and ran his thumb across the split lip.

"Oh, Emerson, come here." he muttered wrapping his arms around Kent and pulling the young man's body to his own, Kent tucking his face into the crook of Chandler's neck, his tears already dampening the other's white shirt collar. The shorter man's arms slinked around Joe's waist, two great fistfuls of his coat clenched in the cut and grazed palms.

Joe ran one hand up and down the Kent's back comfortingly, feeling the smaller frame shake under his touch. Eventually the young man's tears became audible, the sound of his anguish even bringing moisture to Joe's eyes. Kent continued to sob into Joe's neck, clutching at the DI as if he was the only safe thing left in the world. Joe held Kent back tightly, he was worried slightly that his grip was hurting the fragile young man, but he didn't pull away, so Joe drew him closer, immensely relived that his DC was safe, enclosed in his arms, maybe not unhurt, but still warm and breathing and alive.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Joe asked, slightly dreading the answer, but he wanted to know how injured Kent was.

The answer was muffled as it was muttered into his neck. "Just bruises mostly, they're fine. I'm just tired and achy."

Chandler pulled away from Kent slightly, but still the two men had their arms around each other.

"You need to rest. Go to bed, I'll be there shortly." The taller man then leaned forward and pressed a dry kiss to the other's forehead, then another small kiss to the cut lips, feeling the rough, broken skin underneath his own and the dampness on the skin from the young man's tears, that still trailed down the bruised face. As he pulled away Kent nodded and gave a tiny smile at the kiss, before sniffing, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jumper and untangling himself from Joe's embrace, slowly walking into the bedroom, his arms once again wrapped around himself.

Joe watched the young man disappear into the other room, before he slipped his coat and shoes off, laying the expensive material across the back of the sofa. He then walked into the small kitchen, flicking the switch on the kettle to make tea and once again checked that the young man was still in the bedroom before pulling out his mobile and quickly dialling a number.

"Miles? Something's happened. I need you to do me a favour."

* * *

><p>When Chandler entered the bedroom carrying the two mugs of tea Kent was not in bed as he'd thought he'd be. Instead he found him sitting on the end of it, examining a shirt. After a closer look Chandler could see that it was the shirt the young man had worn to work that day, and to his horror he also noticed that it now had a few drops of dried blood on the front of the collar and a whole patch of red at the back. He hadn't realised how much Kent had bled after the attack as he'd only seen him after all of the bleeding had stopped. At his scrutiny the DC looked up at him and held the shirt up higher, before giving him a dejected look.<p>

"I don't think It'll come out. The blood." He muttered, his voice shaky, before balling up the shirt and throwing it into the corner of the room. Chandler was so tempted to go and pick it up, but resisted and instead sat next to Kent on the end of the bed, handing one of the mugs to the other man.

"It doesn't matter." Chandler whispered. "We can buy you another shirt." the following sentence of 'you matter more' was left unspoken, but both men could hear it. Kent closed his eyes against the relentless pounding in his head and lent to the side until his head was resting on Chandler's strong shoulder. At this the older man immediately kissed the top of the other's head.

"Come on, bed. Now."

The half full mugs of tea were placed on the bedside cabinets while Kent slowly climbed into bed and Chandler undressed, placing each of the items of clothing on the small chair in the corner of the bedroom, before climbing in beside the young man. Kent still wore his pyjama trousers and the jumper in bed while Joe was just in his underwear and a t-shirt.

Quickly Joe shuffled up behind the young man, pressing his body to the smaller one and hesitantly allowed one hand to slip around Kent's waist and under the thick jumper, his fingers softly, comfortingly, stroking the young man's stomach.

He could still hear Kent sniffing and trying to suppress his tears. He couldn't bear it.

"Emerson, turn around." He whispered into the darkness. Quickly the young man did so, gingerly rolling over so that he was facing Joe, and even in the limited light the DI could still see the glistening moisture on Kent's face.

With a sigh Joe once again drew the young man to his chest and tucked him within his arms. Again Kent quietly began to cry into Joe's t-shirt, but he didn't mind, he held Kent and listened to his pain until the young man fell asleep, exhausted, the tears slowly drying on his cheeks.

"You're safe now…"

* * *

><p>The next morning Joe awoke at his normal time, before getting ready for work. He let Kent sleep; the young man wouldn't be going into work today.<p>

Just as he was about to leave his phone rang. Seeing that it was Miles he quickly picked the mobile up off of the bedside cabinet and took it into the kitchen before answering.

"Yes, Miles? Have you found anything?"

"We've looked through the CCTV of the car park at the time you gave us and we've identified the lad leaving and walking to that bloody scooter. The place where the attack took place is actually out of shot, so we can't see a damn thing." Miles explained. Chandler sighed.

"But less than a minute later we can see Andrews and two other unidentified uniforms leaving the station after Kent. It's not solid evidence and we'll need the names of the other two, but I'm sure Andrew's will grass them up when we interview him, take the spotlight off of himself a little, eh?" The DS continued, his words causing a relieved smile to break out of Chandler's face.

"Excellent. Good work Miles."

A pause.

"You do realise we'll need a statement and a positive ID from Kent, don't you Boss?"

Chandler closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes, I know. Not today though, He's in no condition to deal with the official protocol today." Joe glanced at the closed bedroom door. "I'm sure he'll give a statement eventually, but today we'll have to look at other ways of catching Andrews."

"Do you want me to call Andrews in for an interview?"

"No, we don't have enough evidence yet, not without Kent's statement. Just find out if he's working today."

"No problem Boss."

"Thank you Miles, I'll be at the office in a bit"

They both hung up simultaneously, leaving Joe standing there mentally planning out each step that himself and the team would have to do to get Andrews behind bars. Then before leaving he scribbled a quick note on a pad of paper sitting on the kitchen counter to Kent, telling him that he wasn't expected in work today and that he should get some rest. He then walked into the bedroom where the young man was still sleeping soundly.

His injuries were still as angry looking as they were the night before and the bruising had become even darker in areas, creating a mottled effect on the usually flawless skin.

The blood stained shirt in the corner of the room and the suit jacket lying on the chair next to his own caught the older man's eye and he quickly grabbed the items of clothing; he would take them to Dr Llewellyn for forensic analysis, they needed all of the evidence they could get. He then turned back to the young man in the bed and lent down to gently kiss his forehead, stroking the back of his knuckles along the bruised cheek, before turning and leaving the flat, making sure to lock the door behind him.

* * *

><p>When Chandler arrived at the office he parked away from his usual spot, but could still see that the small patch of blood was still staining the wall from the night before. He'd have to ask Miles if forensics had been able to get any information from there. He then quickly made his way to the mortuary and handed Dr Llewellyn the young man's blood stained clothes, sombrely answering her questions about how Kent was doing, her motherly nature showing through in her concerned expressions and enquiries.<p>

When he entered the incident room Miles and Mansell were already there, both standing by the formers desk. There was no time for small talk, and they immediately showed Chandler the CCTV of the previous night. When the blurry form of Kent walked out of the station Chandler couldn't help a sudden surge of guilt that built up in his chest. If he'd only just gone home with him instead of staying to do the stupid case, It might not have happened. He swore to himself at that moment that he would make the uniforms pay for this.

Then, a mere minute later when the video showed the Uniforms also exiting the station, huddling together for a second before all three splitting, going off in different directions.

"There's nothing else boss. We can't actually see the place where Kent's Vespa is, we can see the edge of your car, but not the lad. We've looked at all of the other camera's and none of them show the crime scene.

"Turn it off, I don't want to see it again." Even though the tape didn't show the attack happening, the timer in the corner of the screen was still rolling, which meant that even though it didn't capture the crime, it was still happening just out of frame and Chandler couldn't bear to imagine it. "Do we have anything else?"

Mansell shook his head. "We don't have much to go on Sir, not without a statement."

"Is Andrews in the station today?"

"Yeah, he is. We saw the bastard coming in earlier. He had the bloody nerve to give us a huge grin." Miles snapped, his anger obvious. "We've had forensics quickly examine the car park, they've found nothing so far, but they only did a quick check. They'll find something." He stated confidently.

"How's Kent?" Mansell asked, sitting on one of the chairs and looking up at Chandler with definite sympathy clouding his expression. While Kent and Mansell were not close when he'd first arrived, they'd become quite firm friends since and the older DC clearly had a soft spot for Kent (like the whole team did!).

The DI brought a hand up to his mouth and sighed.

"Scared. He tried to lie and tell me he didn't know who'd attacked him. I think Andrews said something to scare him enough to not let it slip that it was him. His face is…a mess, he doesn't even look like Kent." Chandler explained, his voice getting quieter and quieter. "He doesn't deserve this, after all that happened with the Kray's-"

"Don't worry Boss, Andrews won't get away with it." Miles reassured Chandler, patting his arm.

Joe nodded, before gathering himself and his emotions, clapping his hands together. "Ok, let's get to work!"

They didn't make any progress that day, forensics found nothing but Kent's blood in the car park, no CCTV tapes were obtained with a shot of the crime scene and Dr Llewellyn was taking her time examining Kent's clothes, being as thorough as she could, not wanting to miss anything. In the closing hours of the shift Joe just sat with his head in his hands, waiting for news that never came. At 5o'clock Miles came into his office and told him to go home and change his clothes then go and see Kent.

Joe thought that it was a excellent idea!

* * *

><p>"We'll need Kent to make a statement tomorrow to really get the ball rolling. Do you think the lad will be ready?" Miles questioned as the three detectives walked down the steps of the police station to the main lobby at the end of the day.<p>

"I don't know. At least he knows the process and why we need to do it, so I'm sure he'll understand." Chandler answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

When they were nearly at the bottom of the steps Chandler heard a familiar voice that made his blood boil in an instant. He held up his hand to indicate for the other two to stop and peered down the last flight of stairs, clenching his fists angrily when PC Andrew's came into view, talking with another uniform. They had to strain their ears to hear the voices, but they weren't talking that quietly.

"The queer's wasn't in today, he obviously got the message last night!" Laughter followed.

The anger surged up within Joe, and without a thought of all of the other police officers and members of the public milling around he charged down the remaining stairs and marched up to Andrew's.

"You son of a bitch!" He spat, causing the whole lobby to look around. Without conscious thought he raised one fist ready to punch the PC, a red haze descending over his vision. But before he could act on his impulse he felt one hand grip his raised arm and another pair of hands grip his shoulder's, holding him back from the PC.

"No Sir, Don't!" Miles shouted, roughly pulling Chandler away, exchanging looks with Mansell.

He struggled for a few moments, slightly enjoying the fact that Andrew's face immediately paled at his actions and he even flinched when the DI raised his fist, but otherwise looked too shocked to react in any way. After a moment Chandler glanced around to find that the whole lobby was looking at the scene unfold in front of them, this fact causing his anger to slowly dissipate to a level where he was able to consciously force himself to stop struggling and lower his fist.

Chandler shrugged Miles and Mansell's hands off of his shoulders and gave them a subtle nod to let them know that he wouldn't loose it again. He glared at the PC and slowly stepped towards him, stopping mere inches in front of Andrew's.

"I know what you did PC Andrews, and we're going to find the evidence to prove it." Chandler whispered dangerously. "You had better watch every step you make, as I believe I can make life _very _difficult for you until we find what we need…" the blonde man gave a mock friendly smile and allowed his voice to return to a normal volume. "In the professional sense of course."

The PC continued to stare almost fearfully at the DI.

"You're fucking insane." Andrews muttered under his breath so that only Chandler could hear, The DI's only response was to smile at the PC and slowly turn away, Miles and Mansell following him, leaving behind a stunned lobby of Policemen and other onlookers.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Repercussions - Chapter 3

Pairing: Kent/Chandler

Rating: R

Author: Claddagh

Summary: The uniforms of the Metropolitan police force don't like the idea of a homosexual couple in their station.

Disclaimer: Not mine…or are they? No. Really. They're not!

Warnings: Violence, homophobia, angst…The list is endless…

* * *

><p>Kent sighed as he slowly fastened the buttons of his dark blue cardigan, brushing out the remaining wrinkles, then looked up into the mirror he stood in front of, wincing as he took in his still bruised and swollen exterior.<p>

It had been two days since the attack, and while the swelling had gone down and the physical healing had begun, the young man was still a long way off of being completely healed and back to his normal appearance.

For the majority of the day after the attack Kent had stayed in bed and watched TV or read. He'd not got up until lunch time, though he had left his bed momentarily in the morning, to be greeted by the note left by Joe on the kitchen counter, his mood improved slightly by the single kiss at the bottom of the page. He'd generally stayed away from the mirrors, especially when he'd taken another shower, choosing to actively face away from the mirror and not look at his injuries. He'd also uncharacteristically and repeatedly checked that the front door was locked and the chain lock was securely in place. Kent knew his behaviour was absurd but he couldn't help it and every noise above average volume caused the young man to tense up and his eyes to automatically shoot to the door, which was when he would once again check the lock, before returning to the sofa or bed, never quite at ease in his own home.

Later, just after half past five Joe had returned to Kent's flat, the young man again having to take off the chain lock so the DI could come in, giving him an apologetic and slightly embarrassed look. A tight, yet gentle embrace had followed, both men very happy to see the other. He'd asked how Joe's day had been and the DI had reluctantly filled him in on their progress in catching Andrews, conveniently leaving out the incident in the lobby just before the team had left the station.

They had then eaten together and curled up on the sofa, before going to bed, and not once during the evening did the young man check that the door was locked. When Joe was with him he'd felt safer than when he was alone. It wasn't until they were in bed, the smaller man curled around Joe, did he bring up the topic of the much needed statement from Kent.

Initially the young man had wanted to refuse, saying that it was too soon after the attack to even consider facing the station, the uniforms and even the team. However after some gentle coaxing from Joe he'd agreed to come in the next day, providing that he was not left alone at any point and was with Joe, Miles or Mansell at all times.

Kent knew all of the protocol and the reasons why his statement was so badly needed, but that was from the rational detectives point of view, which was far from the mentality of a victim. At the moment Kent was both of these, and despite his detective persona, the victim seemed to be dominant, the young man forgetting almost everything he knew about his job and the professionalism that came with it.

What happens when those who catch the criminals are the victims instead?

But eventually he had agreed to giving a statement the next day at the station.

So this was why he was now showered and dressed casually, ready to leave his flat. He had tried to tame his hair, but not with as much effort as he usually put into it, (he was a beat up mess anyway, controlling his curls wouldn't exactly make him suddenly look presentable!)

He attempted a smile when he saw Joe come up behind him in the mirror and place a hand on either side of his waist, softly resting there, not applying much pressure as he now knew the bruises and damage that lay unseen underneath the young man's clothes and how painful they were; He'd seen how painful they were when he'd hugged the young man too tightly when watching TV last night, his gilt surging when Kent cried out and flinched from his touch. He now hugged the young man tightly, but not tight enough to hurt him.

"Are you ready to go?"

Kent slowly took a deep breath, then turned his head towards Joe, nodding. After a moments thought where neither man moved, Kent sighed.

"Do I have to do this today?" His voice was quiet, barely audible in the silence of the room, but Joe heard it. The older man gently turned Kent around so they were facing each other.

"No, you don't have to. But you know the procedure and why we need your statement so much. But you don't have to do it today. I can ring Miles and tell him now if you want."

Kent shook his head. "No, I'm gonna do this, it needs to be done."

Joe smiled at the young man, proud of his bravery. If Joe had been in that position he didn't know if he'd be able to face going into the station again. He then placed his hand on Kent's shoulder and the two men walked out the flat.

* * *

><p>Joe intentionally parked around the corner from where he normally would, so Kent didn't have to look at the place where the attack happened. They didn't say anything as they got out of the car and made their way to the doors of the station, but Kent's steps did falter slightly the closer they got, so Joe placed one hand on the small of the young man's back comfortingly. He wished that he could just grip the other's hand inside of his own instead, but they were still trying to be discreet with their relationship. Joe thought that maybe by now that was a futile practice as it was possible that, since Kent's attack, rumours of their involvement could have already spread around the station like wildfire, but nothing good would come of confirming those rumours at this already trying time. There was nothing suspicious about a DI comforting a fellow officer with a solid hand on his back, but holding hands was unfortunately a different matter completely.<p>

As they entered the lobby of the police station they found themselves surrounded by the normal hustle and bustle of uniforms, Detectives and members of the public, all going about their daily business. Luckily none of the uniforms present was Andrews, but many did turn to look in both surprise and pity at their superiors, at Kent's physical state. Rumours of why Kent was absent the day before had indeed spread around the station and the scene in the lobby with Chandler and Andrews had only served to fuel them more. At this sudden attention Kent lowered both his eyes and head, a mixture of not wanting to make eye contact with anyone and not wanting them to see the injuries marring his face.

Joe quickly ushered the young man through the lobby and up the stairs, away from the staring eyes of their colleagues. It was a few minutes before they reached the incident room, but Kent found that he was glad when they did, as Miles and Mansell were already at their desks and there was no one else in the room, no uniforms to make the young man even more nervous.

When the couple entered the incident room the DS and DC immediately turned and stood to greet them. Miles took the situation in his stride, walked up to Kent and clapped a hand on his upper arm.

"Good to see you lad. I hope his nibs has been taking care of you properly?" Miles joked, extracting a smile from both men, who exchanged a look. He defiantly had been taking care of him. Kent found that Miles' presence and behaviour was comforting, he wasn't wincing at his injuries and looking at him with pity, he was making a joke and acting like Kent had just been on holiday. It was nice.

Mansell on the other hand had held back from the group and was looking at Kent and his injuries with an almost horrified expression on his face, sympathy clouding his features. Though when Kent looked to the other DC he seemed to snap out of it and immediately walked over to the young man, giving him a smile, "Knew we wouldn't get rid of you that easy."

Kent felt immensely better now that he was back with his team and no one was tiptoeing around him. He still keenly felt the fear of bumping into one of his attackers and the reluctance to give his statement, but surrounded by those he trusted helped a great deal.

Also now that the team was alone in the incident room Joe had stepped a little closer to Kent and had allowed the hand that was previously only resting on his back to curl slightly around his waist, pulling him close, allowing more physical contact as they were alone with the people who knew about them and whom they trusted. Kent immediately relaxed into the touch and looked up at Joe, a small smile curving his lips.

"So, Let's get this over with shall we?"

* * *

><p>They led Kent to one of the interview rooms in order to give his statement. They were going to ask him a few questions which would be taped in order to get his story straight and get all of his memories in order. Then the young man would complete a written account of what happened, which would then be used as both evidence against Andrews during the investigation, but also in court when the case progressed to that stage.<p>

Usually in an interview Miles and Chandler would be on one side of the table, while the interviewee would sit on the other side. However, as this was a personal case and the team felt that an informal atmosphere would best suit Kent, the young man sat at the head of the interview table, while Miles sat on one side of the young man and Chandler sat on the other side, while Mansell stood in the corner of the room, silently watching the proceedings.

After the mandatory introduction for the purpose of the tape recording, Miles put his glasses on and asked the first question.

"Kent. Can you tell us what happened on the evening of the 22nd of November 2011 please?"

The young man took a deep breath, one hand automatically coming up to his face, self consciously touching one of the many bruises. When he began to speak it was in a quiet, but confident tone, his voice clear and at a steady pace.

"I'd just left the office-"

"That is Whitechapel police station?"

"Yes. Myself and DI Chandler had been working late for a case. I, um…walked through the car park to my scooter, when someone called my name, I looked to see who it was."

"Did you recognise the person?" Miles prompted, already knowing the answer. Kent licked his lips and glanced at the DS.

"Not at first, it was dark, but then they came closer and I realised that it was Police constable Eric Andrews. He often works in the incident room during cases. He, um, came towards me and I…" The young man faltered, his memory of the specifics of the attack already fuzzy. He frowned, trying to recall as much as he could. "…I asked him if - if he wanted anything. He, he looked at me, smiling, and said that yes there was. That's…that's when the other two PC's grabbed me from behind and pushed me against the wall."

"Did you recognise either of the other two PC's?" Chandler spoke for the first time, his voice all business, but in his head all he could think about was poor Emerson, having to cope with all of this, wishing he could stop it all.

Kent shook his head. "No, it was too dark, and I'd already hit my head on the wall, I don't remember their faces at all. But, they held me against the wall, then Andrews came up to me and said…" The young man hesitated, his gaze dropping down to his lap, a blush creeping up his neck and along his cheeks.

At that moment Joe extended his arm and tightly gripped the young man's hand underneath the table, stroking the soft flesh on the back of Kent's hand, the contact comforting to the young DC, allowing him to give Chandler a tiny smile of thanks, before taking a deep breath and continuing his account.

"He said, that they wanted all of the… 'fags'…out of the police force." The young man exchanged a look with Joe at this, his grip on the other man's hand tightening. At this point in the story Kent's tone began to waver, emotion now showing through in both his voice and his choice of words. "Then…he grabbed my throat and all three of them came at me. They punched and hit me, I -I don't know for how long."

"Then, when they stopped Andrews said to me that if-if I told anyone who'd attacked me, he'd…hurt me again." Joe's jaw tightened, unnoticed by the others in the room. "They then kicked over my scooter and just walked away." The young man then shrugged to signify the end of his story.

"So, the attack was motivated by homophobia?" Miles asked

"Yes." Kent breathed, embarrassed at the question. He could see that Miles hadn't wanted to ask it, but it was his job and all of the difficult questions had to be asked and answered.

"What did you do after the attack?"

"I went home." Kent simply stated

"Injured? Why didn't you go back into the police station?"

"I don't know. I was scared and…I didn't really know what to do, so I just went home." The DC closed his eyes, gripping Chandler's hand tightly

"Ok, Is there anything else you can remember that may help us?"

Kent thought for a moment, resting his forehead in his free hand, before shaking his head. He'd rather give less evidence that give a large amount of false evidence. From experience he knew how fallible witness testimony and memory is, but for this knowledge he was unfortunately not exempt from this imperfection of the human mind.

"No, I don't think so."

"Ok. Interview is terminated at 10.25am." Miles sighed, pressing the stop button on the tape player, before looking at Kent and smiling. "Well done lad, you just need to write it all down now." The DS pushed the statement form and a pen towards Kent, who nodded, giving a immensely relieved expression before picking up the pen, reluctantly letting let go of Joe's hand and beginning to fill in the form.

After a few minutes of silence, with the only sounds being the scratching of the pen as the young man wrote, Kent glanced up at the three other members of the team.

"Have you found anything more yet?"

Miles, Chandler and Mansell exchanged looks, hesitant to tell the young man that there had been very little progress.

"No, we haven't, but with your statement, it'll be much easier." Chandler reassured the smaller man, who bit his lip, nodding, then went back to his statement.

* * *

><p>"You did fantastically." Joe reassured the young man in the passenger seat next to him. Chandler was driving Kent home, then would return to work himself to continue with the case. At first Kent had tried to say that he would get the tube home, but Chandler hated public transport at the best of times, they were dirty and dangerous. He wasn't about to let Kent contend with those monstrosities in his current state, he was vulnerable looking already, bruised and battered; he would be a perfect target on the London underground for the more unsavoury inhabitants of the city.<p>

The DC bit his lip and gazed at Joe, before his face fell once again and he looked down at the floor, contemplatively.

"Do you think it'll help?" he asked.

Joe glanced at Kent, surprised at the question. "You know it'll help Emerson, you know how this works." A pregnant pause, where the silence between the two men stretched.

"We'll get him. I promise. With or without your statement helping us." Joe muttered quietly, but Kent clearly heard it, and while being comforted by the other's words, still, in his stomach, a knot of doubt sat, telling him that the investigation was going to fail and Andrews would not be punished.

It wasn't long before they were once again outside Kent's building, Joe quickly turning the engine off.

"Thank you for bringing me home. I'll see you tonight?"

Joe nodded, before reaching out and sliding his fingers around the back of the young man's neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss, the two men's lips softly applying pressure and movement to the kiss. He then rested his forehead against the younger man's, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin at the back of Kent's neck and his thumb brushing across the hollow just under his ear.

Kent lent into the touch, encouraged and comforted by the warmth of the other man's skin seeping into his own.

Then, with one last parting kiss and a loving smile the young detective climbed out of the car and walked into his building. Joe didn't pull away in his car until he was sure that Kent was safely inside the building, but even when he did he couldn't help the concerned glance he shot up to the window he knew to be the one into Kent's flat.

* * *

><p>When he entered the incident room to resume his work on the case he was surprised to find Miles, Mansell and Dr Llewellyn all crowded around in a circle, inappropriate (in his opinion) smiles on all three of their faces.<p>

Chandler frowned as he walked towards them.

"We've found something Sir!" Mansell grinned widely as the group noticed their Detective inspector approaching.

Chandler didn't dare to smile until he knew what had been found, not wanting to get too hopeful that Andrews might get his comeuppance. "What is it?" He asked, pulling his cold hands out of the pockets of his coat.

Dr Llewellyn held up a file and a clear evidence bag, containing a very familiar white bloodstained shirt. "The shirt you brought me. There's fingerprints on it."

Chandler's frown deepened. "How can there be fingerprints on the material on the shirt?"

Dr Llewellyn smiled and shook her head. "Not on the material. Look-" She brought the shirt up to Chandler's eye line. "Luckily, the buttons on this shirt are metal, or some other material that fingerprints can be left on. There's a partial third finger print on this button here." She pointed to the left button that held down the shirts collar.

"Is it clear enough to be used as evidence? Or in court?" Chandler asked, his heart beat increasing as multiple thoughts of getting to arrest Andrews swirled around in his head.

She smiled up at the DI. "I think so. I've already checked, and the fingerprint is not yours or Kent's, so the likelihood is that it is one of the PC's, if not Andrew's himself."

"Kent said in his statement that Andrews grabbed him by his throat." Miles stated, nodding his head as the pieces fell into place. The team all glanced between each other, all knowing what was next to be done.

Chandler slipped his coat off of his shoulders and walked into his office, hanging up the expensive material on the coat rack, before making his way back to the team and clapping his hands together once, smiling.

"Gentlemen, I think we have a constable to arrest."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Repercussions - Chapter 4

Pairing: Kent/Chandler

Rating: NC-17 (Reasonably detailed sex scene, quite a lot of swearing and very offensive words - if any of these offend I do apologise - It's my OC's fault for being an Neanderthal! I would also like to add that I actually detest words such as 'fag', but for the purpose of the story I had to use them. I hope they do not offend anyone.)

Author: Claddagh

Summary: The uniforms of the Metropolitan police force don't like the idea of a homosexual couple in their station.

Disclaimer: Not mine…or are they? No. Really. They're not!

Warnings: Violence, homophobia, angst, swearing…The list is endless…

Note: I am very sorry that it took me so long to update this chapter, I hit a wall with this one. I knew what scenes I wanted to happen but it just wasn't coming out the way I hoped. Plus I actually wrote the chapter backwards, I started with the last scene and finished with the first scene! I hope you enjoy.

Final point, once again I am so sorry if any of the police/investigation protocol is wrong or inaccurate - I am not police savvy, I'm more hospital savvy! ;-) I apologise if any of these inaccuracies take away from the quality of the story(of lack of XD).

* * *

><p>Chandler and Miles, followed by Mansell and two uniforms made their way through the police station, both of their strides quick and purposeful, and for once, Miles not finding it difficult to keep up with the lengthily strides of the DI. They had asked for PC Andrews to be located, and they quickly found themselves once again standing in the crowded lobby of the station, surrounded by people.<p>

"Dr Llewellyn is sure the print belongs to Andrews?" Mansell asked.

"Yes, she'd checked. It's his."

They soon spotted Andrews standing at the main desk (he'd been called to the main lobby at their request to save them looking for him) leaning cockily against the surface, talking with the secretary.

The group quickly made their way towards the PC, coming to a stop right behind him, just standing there silently until he noticed them. When he did he slowly turned to face them, a split second look of panic crossing his face, before a confident, mocking smile curved his lips. A false bravado, they could tell.

"DI Chandler, DS Miles. Is there a reason I've been called here? Or have you decided that another embarrassing public scene is necessary?"

"Oh we have a reason PC Andrews." Miles smirked, before looking to Chandler, whose hands were balled into tight fists and his jaw clenched, angry at both the mere presence of the PC and his nonchalant disposition.

The DI then glanced over his shoulder to the other two PC's and gave a subtle jerk of his head. The two policemen immediately surged forward and each gripped one arm, preventing Andrew's from moving. He looked shocked at this development and looked at the three members of the team with a mixture of confusion and anger. The whole of the lobby were once again watching the events unfold, some confused as to why one of their own was being arrested and some with a strange look of understanding across their features.

"Police Constable Eric Andrews, I am arresting you for the assault occasioning actual bodily harm of Detective Constable Emerson Kent." Chandler felt a certain amount of satisfaction at being able to finally say these words, and so he relished each syllable as it passed his lips. "You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

"You can't do this!" Andrews snapped. "You have no evidence."

"Do you think we'd be arresting you Andrews if we didn't have any evidence?" Mansell piped up, raising his eyebrows and folding his arms.

At this Andrews face paled slightly and all three detectives felt a sudden triumph. The PC was so cocky and arrogant he had believed that they wouldn't find any solid evidence. Those in the police force who are corrupt are easily caught, they cut corners and made mistakes because they are too sure and conceited in their own knowledge of the workings and methods used in the criminal justice system. Chandler was glad of this fact as the two PC's frogmarched Andrew's up the stairs and out of the lobby, the team watching with satisfied smiles on their faces.

* * *

><p>"So, Eric. Where were you on the evening of the 22nd of November 2011?"<p>

Andrews sat back in the seat, his arms crossed and his face determinedly nonchalant. "Here, at the police station. Not odd considering I am a police constable." his voice was decidedly mocking and arrogant, Chandler could see the minute movements in Miles' expression that indicated his annoyance, but the DS was very good and practiced at controlling this anger in the interview rooms, until releasing it would benefit them most. Records had indicated that PC Andrews was a clever man, so they would have to work harder to get a full confession, It wouldn't be easy getting one over on him. Though lucky for the detectives, they were intelligent as well.

"Do you know what happened to Emerson Kent that evening?"

A shrug. "Heard he was beaten, don't know why."

Chandler's fists clenched underneath the table, Miles saw it out of the corner of his vision and spoke before the DI could let his emotions get the better of him.

"Only heard he was beaten? You saw nothing, heard nothing?"

"Why would I have seen or heard anything?" Andrew's replied pleasantly, as if he'd been asked what the weather was that day. Miles allowed silence to prevail for a second before he looked the PC directly in the eye and leaned forward in his chair.

"Because we have CCTV footage of Emerson Kent leaving the station at just gone six o'clock, followed closely by you and two other unidentified PC's. He was attacked before he could leave the car park."

Andrews gave no reaction to this other than a blink of his eyes and a glance at the tape recorder sat at the end of the desk, recording every word said. "It was dark, and I must have just missed it happening."

"So you saw nothing?"

"No."

"You had no contact with Emerson Kent on the day, or evening in question?"

"No."

The two Detectives exchanged another glance and a slight smile, both knowing what Miles' next question would be. "Then can you explain why we found your finger print on a button of the victims shirt?"

Silence.

"PC Andrew's? Can you explain why in Emerson Kent's statement he identified _you _as his attacker?"

The man's eyes darted from one detective to the other, his disposition definitely rattled by their words. Within his folded arms the fingers of one hand began to twitch against his other arm and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. The silence wasn't interrupted by the detectives', they let it continue, allowing Andrews to try and think of a way to get out of the predicament he'd found himself in, though they knew it was impossible.

And so did he. He wasn't a stupid man.

The forensic evidence of a fingerprint plus a statement was solid gold in an investigation like this. Andrew's was screwed, and they all were aware of it.

Miles and Chandler could have pinpointed the exact moment where Andrew's realised this, his eyes snapped up to focus on them, his features and expressions hardened into anger as the PC lent forward slightly.

"The little shit got what he deserved. Something had to be done."

Joe gripped the leg of the table, his hand hurting from the pressure. It was the only thing stopping him from standing up and hitting the PC.

"About what?" Andrews' eyes settled on Chandler, the look in them unsettling the inspector, making Joe sure that the next words that came out of the PC's mouth would only make everything worse.

"I'm sure that not many people know about your and DC Kent's activities, do they DI Chandler?"

Joe closed his eyes for a second, knowing that what had just been said was now recorded on that tape, and would be listened to when the case progressed to court. Their was no point trying to hide their relationship now, it was out.

"That is not relevant to this case. Are you admitting to the assault of Emerson Kent?"

"Oh but it is relevant. Do they know what goes on in your office at night when everyone's gone home? I wonder what Commander Anderson will say when he finds out that two male members of his 'pet team' have been fu-"

"That's enough!" Miles growled, immediately silencing the PC. However the triumphant smirk didn't drop from Andrews lips. Despite his inevitable demise, the other man had managed to gain a small victory against them, and had now caused a whole new load of problems that would plague the team for weeks to come, questions of sexual harassment, Abuse of power, favouritism... "Answer the question! Are you admitting to the assault of Emerson Kent?"

"We saw what was going on in that office." Andrews glared at Chandler once again "…disgusting…" He spat. "and decided to do everyone in the station a favour and take care of it ourselves."

"By 'we', you mean the other two PC's? Their names?"

"PC Dales and PC Layton."

Miles nodded.

"Now you're going to tell us everything that happened that evening."

"With pleasure." Andrew's smiled, clearly enjoying the anger swirling in both of the detectives eyes, especially Chandler's as he described in detail exactly what he'd done to Emerson Kent.

* * *

><p>Kent sat perched on the edge of his desk in the incident room, nervously waiting for Chandler and Miles to emerge from the interview room where Andrews interrogation was taking place. When the PC had been arrested and taken into custody the team had called him to inform Kent of the progress and asked if he'd wanted to come back to the station. To which he'd immediately said yes, leading to him sitting here, Mansell a few feet away at his desk, not sure how to behave around Kent, but wanting to keep him company and protect him all the same, especially as his attacker was so close by.<p>

When a door slammed down the hall both men glanced out the windows of the incident room, waiting until anyone could be seen. It wasn't long before they heard angered shouts echoing down the corridor, distain clear in the tone, which sent a cold shiver of dread down Kent's spine as he recognised the voice as that of PC Andrews.

"Fucking Fags! Dirtying this police force with their disgusting acts!"

It was then that Andrew's came into view, handcuffed and being led down the corridor by two uniforms, flanked by Chandler and Miles, the latter smirking at the aggressive PC, while the DI stood stiffly, his jaw clenched and his expression strained.

When Andrews spotted Kent standing in the incident room he stopped walking, yanking his arm out of the grasp of the other PC and turned to the young man, glaring at him.

"You little shit, I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut!" Kent began to panic at this point, face to face with his attacker for the fist time. He looked to Chandler and Miles, before defiantly locking eyes with Andrews and lifting his stance slightly, standing tall, trying his hardest not to act scared or ashamed of what the PC was shouting. This behaviour however didn't deter Andrews, who continued to shout obscenities at Kent and those who were restraining him.

"Disgusting fags! And you, fucking your boss! No wonder this team never catches any of the killers, two of it's members being too preoccupied with screwing each other!"

"Alright, that's enough from you Andrews. Take him to the cells." Miles snapped, nodding to the two PC's who each gripped one of Andrews arms and began to lead him away, still shouting and struggling. When he was out of view Kent closed his eyes and rested his face in his hands, releasing his fear, his shoulders slumping and his eyes already stinging.

Chandler walked over to Kent and wrapped an arm around the smaller man's shoulders, pulling him close. The DI was extremely angry, after having to sit through the interview with Andrews, listening to all of the insults he threw in, the vulgar words making their relationship sound like something awful, knowing that it was being recorded and that their relationship would be well and truly out in the open now, there was no more hiding. Then having to listen and watch as abuse and obscenities were hurled at Kent, the already nervous young man not able to retaliate in any way. Chandler was so angry that he could barley restrain himself from stooping to the common criminals' level and sorting this out with only his fists, but the sight of a scared Emerson pacified his anger to a level where he could control his actions.

He would still take a swing at Andrews given the opportunity, but who wouldn't in his situation?

Kent lifted his head from his hands and looked up at Joe. "Please tell me you've got enough to get this to court." He muttered, wrapping his arms around himself.

Joe nodded. "We pretty much got a full confession, as well as the names of the two other PC's. Miles was right, he gave us their names as soon as he realised we had him, trying to take the focus off of himself."

This caused a hesitant smile to appear on Kent's face, then the young man turned to Miles and Mansell, but not breaking contact with Chandler.

"Thank you." He glanced at all three in turn. "All of you. I think I owe all of you and Dr Llewellyn dinner." He joked, still smiling.

"It's our job lad, and when it's one of our own that's hurt it's _more _than just our job." Miles answered, completely serious in his words. Miles had always cared about his team, almost in a fatherly way he looked after every member of the group, especially the youngest, even coming to feel this way about Chandler, despite the friction that had existed at the beginning between the detectives. Kent was grateful for that fatherly presence.

Chandler squeezed the young man's shoulder's, his anger and tense stance dissipating as he saw the relieved expression appear on Emerson's face as the news that his attackers had been caught and would be tried in court sunk in.

In response to the pressure Kent turned to Chandler and rested his head on the strong shoulder, closing his eyes and placing one of his hands on top of Joe's that still curled around his shoulders.

"I think you two should go home, we'll take care of the paperwork." Miles offered, sitting down at his desk and turning his computer on.

"Miles, I don't think I should, I want to finish-"

"Sir! Take the lad home and bloody well get some rest, you both look like you need it, believe me!" Miles insisted, raising an eyebrow at the two men.

"Yeah Sir, you look a little…rough around the edges." Mansell joined in, smiling up at Chandler, watching in satisfaction as the DI gave an indignant expression and rolled his eyes at his team, only mildly annoyed at the insult. He couldn't bring himself to be truly irritated by their behaviour, considering the outcome of their day's work.

"Fine. Just make sure all of the paperwork is legible."

* * *

><p>Chandler felt a certain amount of deja-vu as he stood in commander Anderson's office, his hands clasped together in front of him and his eyes appropriately lowered considering the gravity and purpose of the meeting. Anderson stood by the window, looking out across the city, his disappointment and anger palpable, making the atmosphere in the room charged and tense, despite the silence.<p>

The DI shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, his eyes glancing back and forth from the commander and the spotless floor of the office.

"Sir? I know what happened, shouldn't have, the way it did, but-"

"You're right Joe, It shouldn't have." Anderson snapped, turning back to face the other man and walking over to his desk. "You willingly and knowingly took on a case that was personal in nature to both you and your team. You made no attempts to hand the case over to another department, and not to mention the fact that you've been caught engaging in a homosexual relationship with one of your subordinate officers!" Anderson lent forward on the polished surface of his desk and looked at Joe angrily.

Chandler couldn't deny that taking on Kent's case was irresponsible, his and the rest of the team's involvement with the young man made the investigation more likely to be bias and the treatment of any suspects apprehended much more harsh than usual. He had acted wrongly by leading the case; it had been different with the Kray's when McCormack had died, the team had already been put on the case before his suicide and McCormack's actions became another piece of evidence, whereas the team actively chose to take up Kent's case. Their conduct had been wrong, but still Andrew's had been caught, the outcome of the case almost justifying the means to Anderson. The matter of Joe and Emerson's relationship was entirely different.

"Sir." He began carefully, not wishing to be disrespectful. "I do not believe Emerson, or myself, have done anything wrong." At this Anderson's expression went from anger to disbelief and Joe hurried to continue his explanation before he was interrupted. "There is no policy or law in the metropolitan police service that states that a romantic or sexual relationship between two employees is prohibited." Chandler took a deep breath. "Even two _male _employees." He added, holding Anderson's gaze almost defiantly.

The Commander looked down at his desk and angrily slammed his hand down on the surface.

"Joe, You had so much potential, even without my help, all of my effort, you would have gone far. But you seem determined to make sure that every career opportunity that comes your way is destroyed! With my help you could have still progressed after the shambles that was the Ripper case and the Kray's." He slowly shook his head. "But not after this. Not after the way that your… _affair _with your DC has come out."

"It wasn't an affair." Joe insisted, his tone clipped and sharp, the man becoming immediately defensive of his and Emerson's relationship. "It _isn't _an affair."

"Do you really think that matters to them out there!" Anderson nearly shouted. "All that they will see is a sordid affair, only exacerbated by the fact that you are both male. Your career, as well as DC Kent's will now stand still. Neither of you will be able to progress, and that's not my doing, it's just the way the public and the rest of the service reacts."

Joe thought about the commanders words for a moment, before he calmly replied. "I don't know how DC Kent would feel about that, but as I've told you before, commander Anderson, I'm happy where I am, I do not want to progress like I used to." Joe straightened his spine further and raised his chin, determined not to appear ashamed. "And concerning my relationship with Emerson, both of us, and the rest of the team, know that it wasn't a 'sordid affair'. Far from it. Which is all that matters." By this point Joe's voice was tinted with anger and insistent, almost rude. "…sir." He added as an after thought in an attempt to try and bring some respect back into the conversation.

Anderson sighed and slowly sat down behind his desk, looking worn out and tired, as Joe looked on, still standing tall and proud outwardly, while inside he was a emotional wreck, the recent events taking it' toll on his nerves.

"Joe, it's up to you how you lead your life, and this isn't a lifestyle I'd want for you, but if that's what you choose, then your career _will _suffer."

"It's already suffered because of other factors aside from who I have a relationship with. It's unlikely to suffer any more."

"So you're going to continue your relationship with DC Kent?" the commander asked, his voice almost submissive. Joe didn't hesitate in his answer.

"Of course."

Anderson sighed and looked down, resigned to the fact that Joe's mind was made up.

"Well, good luck then Joe. I hope you are happy being a DI."

Chandler smiled.

"I am."

And it wasn't a lie. While some of the cases were mundane, routine and boring, occasionally a good case would come up. This was enough to satisfy Chandler, and being able to do all of these cases with Kent and the rest of the team by his side was a bonus. He'd rather be a DI and have a team who he trusts and who trust him, than a commander, surrounded by people who only saw him as a figure of authority, with no other attachment. Plus being able to work so closely with someone who he cares about as much as he cares about Kent made his work even better, adding a softness to the harsh nature of the job of a detective.

With that Joe shook commander Andersons hand and gave a final smile for the other man, before leaving the office, already knowing exactly where he was headed.

* * *

><p>Kent was sitting curled up on his sofa, his legs drawn up, flicking through the channels on the TV, while his book sat open on a page, face down on his lap. He was bored, nothing able to hold his attention for any significant length of time, but at the same time he was nervous. Joe had left for his meeting with commander Anderson straight after work, which was over an hour ago, and Kent was getting slightly worried. He knew that Chandler would be the one to take the brunt of the consequences for taking his case and for the way that their relationship had come out. He prayed that Commander Anderson's reprimands wouldn't mean that the DI was moved from Whitechapel, or that his words would convince Joe that their relationship was more trouble than it was worth. That thought had always scared Kent.<p>

The young man's eyes snapped to the door as he heard the lock being turned, and he watched as the it swung open (the chain lock was not on for once) to reveal Joe, his posture straight, tall and a happy, if not a particularly overt smile curving his lips.

Kent expected the other man to be a little bit more - subdued - when he came back from the meeting. He frowned and watched as the door was re locked and the other man turned to face him, slipping off his coat and shoes.

"How'd it go?"

The question was left unanswered as Joe just walked over to the sofa, loosening his tie as he went, still smiling, until he was standing in front of the still sitting young man. There was a second where both men stood still, the younger of the two looking up at Chandler with a slightly confused look on his face.

Then, without warning Joe's smile widened and he quickly lent down, gripping either side of the young man's face and firmly pressed his lips to Kent's, registering in the back of his mind how the other man momentarily tensed in shock at the unexpected kiss, before he let out a quiet murmur and relaxed, his eyes sliding closed and one hand coming up to grip Joe's forearm, pulling him closer.

Joe's finger's gently stroked the soft skin of Kent's face, before his tongue traced the seam of the warm lips underneath his, prompting the young man to open his mouth, allowing them to deepen the kiss once Kent had got over his initial surprise at the uncharacteristically impulsive behaviour from the DI.

Kent stood up from the sofa, the book and the TV remote dropping unnoticed to the floor and slipped his hands into Joe's suit jacket, his fingers sliding across the soft material of his white shirt as well as feeling the solid torso underneath, enthusiastically pressing forward into the kiss.

After a minute Kent pulled away, breathless and looked up at Joe, who still had the small, odd smile on his face.

"So, I'm guessing the meeting went well?" Kent breathed, his body still pressed tightly to the other man's.

"Partly, Anderson said that because of the way this came out, our careers are pretty much at a stand still."

Kent's face dropped a little at that and he eyes lowered. Not for his own sake, but for Joe's. The older man had always been ambitious, and Kent really didn't want to be the thing standing in his way. "But, I've found that It doesn't actually bother me." The young man looked at Joe in surprise. "I'm right where I want to be, I'm happy here." He ran his fingers down one side of Kent's face, noticing with satisfaction that all of the other man's injuries had practically faded to nothing, and only the slight scuffs of the cuts and light discolouration of the bruises remained, the young man reverting back to his usual flawless appearance. "and I don't want to leave you." He breathed, honestly.

Kent smiled.

"Everything else is ok then?"

"I'm not losing my job, I'm not getting transferred, nothing is happening to your job, and Andrew's trial date has been confirmed for in a few months time. I'd say that's more than ok, wouldn't you?"

The DC's smile widened further as he rushed forward and initiated the second kiss, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck, before his nimble fingers loosened, then undone the dark tie, before pulling it off and letting it drop onto the sofa behind him. Joe pulled the younger man closer, his hands tightly gripping Kent's waist, his fingers clutching at the dark gray t-shirt he wore.

The kiss quickly deepened, and the pace increased, the two men pressing tightly against each other, both battling for dominance of the kiss. This always happened, the struggle for control, but inevitably Joe would win, the younger man surrendering power to the other man, but still giving as good as he got.

Joe's fingers were soon threading through the dark, soft curls, that were still lightly gelled from the day's work. loving the feel of the strands caressing his skin and the way that when he tugged on a curl, pulling it straight before letting it go, it immediately sprung back into a tight corkscrew. Chandler loved Kent's hair.

Chandler pulled his lips from Kent's momentarily only to trail small, soft kisses down one cheek, along the sharp jaw line, then further down along the pale neck, encouraged by the little sighs and catches of breath that reached his ears as well as the fingers that clutched at his shirt.

Kent nudged Joe's face with one hand, prompting him to lift his head and breathlessly join his lips with the young man again, feeling the smaller body shiver in his arms as his fingers slipped underneath the thin t-shirt he wore, gently caressing the flesh as he pushed the material upwards.

It was then that the young man pulled away again, giving Chandler a wide smile, then gripped the lapels of his suit jacket and started to walk backwards towards the bedroom, biting his lip and maintaining eye contact with Joe the entire time.

By the time they reached the bed Kent had slipped off Joe's jacket, throwing it on the chair in the corner of the room and had undone half of the other man's shirt buttons, exposing the smooth, hairless chest, which he quickly lent down and kissed, dragging his lips and tongue along the warm skin. He felt the other man's chest shake and rumble as Joe let out a deep chuckle at Kent's actions. It wasn't long before the shirt was slipped off of wide shoulders and tossed on top of the jacket, leaving Joe standing half naked, his skin flushed and damp from where the young man's lips had travelled.

With a lustful look towards the other man he gripped the hem of the t-shirt he wore and ripped it over his head, messing up the dark curls even more. Then, a mere second later Kent was pushed back onto the bed, lying on his back, propped up on one elbow, watching as Joe quickly removed his trousers, shoes and socks, leaving him in just his underwear. He then climbed onto the bed and reunited his lips with Kent's, trailing one hand down the bare chest and flat stomach, smiling at the quiet moan that this produced from the other man's mouth.

"Joe…" Was breathlessly whispered into the kiss as Kent arched his body into Chandler's, bringing their hips into alignment so that they could feel each other's arousals pressing against the other man's hips, the contact sending sparks of pleasure through their bodies.

Joe moaned the young man's name into the pale flesh of his exposed neck, his fingers fumbling to undo the button and zip of Kent's jeans, before slipping his fingers into the bottoms, pulling them down and off, as well as the underwear, leaving him completely stark naked. Kent harshly gripped Chandler's hair, pulling him into a deep kiss, his clenching fingers messing up the obsessively styled strands, his body arching up into the other man's, his spine contorting as pleasure pulsed through his nervous system.

The older man placed one hand on Kent's chest, gently holding him down as he began to kiss his way down the slim form, his lips unconsciously tracing the area's of flesh he knew had been darkened and marred by the bruises and scrapes of the attack. Flesh that was now nearly back to it's normal, pale appearance. He paid particular attention to the young man's lower left abdomen, where the darkest, nastiest bruise has formed. When Chandler had seen it for the first time he'd been slightly sickened by the fact that the bruise was clearly, by the shape, given to Kent by a brutal kick to the stomach. A theory that had been confirmed by the young man when Joe had asked.

The day after Kent had given his statement and Andrews had been arrested Joe had practically forced him to go to the doctors and be examined for any severe internal injuries, despite the young man's clear dislike, almost fear, of hospitals. They had told the detectives that most of Kent injuries were superficial, and that there was no excessive internal bleeding that wouldn't heal on it's own. Joe had watched as day by day the bruises had faded, wishing that he could simply kiss them away.

He was brought back to the moment when Emerson released a high pitched whimper and shifted under the other man's touch, before lifting his head from the mattress and pulling Joe back up so that they were eye level with each other, heatedly capturing the other's lips, while fumbling with the DI's underwear, hurriedly pulling them off and wrapping his legs around the other man's waist, preventing him from moving away even an inch.

It wasn't long before the two men were moving together as one, each other names being gasped into their fevered kisses, into the crook of the other's neck or shoulder. Their hands were joined, pressed back against the mattress, fingers clenching, tendons straining with each thrust of their hips. Kent came first, his entire back arching off the mattress as his mouth fell half open in a silent cry, the contractions of his body drawing Chandler to his completion. Both men rode out their orgasm by clinging to each other, before eventually falling asleep, their bodies still entwined, Kent's head pillowed on Chandler's chest.

The two men were content in the knowledge that while they may not progress as detectives', they still had their jobs, they still had each other and Andrew's and the other two PC's would get what they deserved for hurting Emerson so. They had been ashamed of the way their relationship had been revealed, but neither man could bring themselves to feel ashamed of anything they'd done or the relationship itself. There was nothing wrong with their actions and everyone who mattered could see that.

Chandler drew the young man closer, thankful that Emerson was safe and that himself and the team had been the ones who'd caught those who had dared to compromise that safety.

The End


End file.
